Tears Of A Clown
by HaveringFool
Summary: She holds onto the hand that reaches for hers – Jane's. [Note: A really important a/n rests or lies, at the bottom of chapter one.]
1. Chapter 1

She starts her day, like all and most days – awaking on an empty bed, except for her own being sprawled across it, and with the constant promise of a cup of coffee brewing streets away.

She tosses aside the covers, rolls off the bed, and drags herself into the shower, manages to tame her unruly mane, and sets off in her cruiser - towards the cup of coffee she so requires.

Her phone buzzes and she thumps the steering wheel before answering with: "Detective Rizzoli here."

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~  
A new episode airs tomorrow (or...today? Time zone differences) and, I'm sort of anxious about it so, since I have a slight fascination with clowns - the very slightest - I am tempted too by the title, the inspired idea, and lastly, it's a good chance for me to practice with this fanfic for the other fanfic (if I'm even slightly good, or simply coherent, you'll know what I'm driving at...probably...) so in conclusion, here's a wacky (probably) fast-themed (maybe) story. It has till chapter six for now because, as anxious and as distracting writing fanfics might be, I have school tomorrow. So, maybe, the episode won't even be that bad, but, I'll create my own delusion first. I could google and spoil the episode but, I'm going to Tumblr-spoil it tomorrow anyway. Pardon me if I can't use the title. **Disclaimer is and will always be in my profile; I'm just specifically mentioning it here because, I really couldn't think of another title and, the idea thus inspired was from the title, **and it's cool, isn't it (to me at least).  
Note and maybe, a warning of sorts: I'm really bad with actual, factual stuff so, everything's made up on a whim and to some degree (some degree) of sense. (This note should apply for all the fanfics I write though...hahaha. Yet, since this particular one has the crime element (somewhat?) so, just bear this note in mind...)


	2. Chapter 2

"You didn't come for your coffee today," she smiles as she gestures Jane to her mug.

"Thank _you_, Doctor Isles," Jane rolls her eyes with a smile, "Didn't you get called in?"

"Did you _see_ me at the crime scene?" She asks without looking up from the body on her autopsy table. A John Doe, a little John Doe, was lying on it. She tried not to allow for any transference to occur.

"There weren't any dead bodies that we could find, just blood traces," Jane takes a sip of coffee, "Maybe that's why you didn't have to come in," Jane walks nearer to her.

"If you're going to be near the body, you have to take the adequate precautions Jane," she utters a reminder.

"Are you saying that I'm dirty?" Jane teases as she obediently dons a surgical gown and a pair of gloves.

"I just don't want to have you risk contaminating evidence and…" She reaches for a pair of forceps – a strand of red.

"Do you see this?" She drops the new found evidence into a bag and hands it to Jane. She turns back to the body.

That was the only strand.

"I'll get Susie to run a test on it," she reaches for the bag.

"It's definitely hair," Jane concludes as she hands the bag over, and eagerly removes her protective attire, "And that's just my guess," Jane makes sure to add before she interjects, "A beer, that it's hair," Jane playfully challenges.

"I'm not gambling or betting anything with you Jane," she starts to leave the morgue, and Jane follows behind, "And it could be anything, ranging from hair to any synthetic material in a strand-like form. We'll only know if –"

"If we run tests on it," Jane hurries after her before she steps into the laboratory, "And while we wait for the results, should we grab lunch?" Jane asks with a smile.

"We can," she smiles to Jane, before entering the laboratory. She thanks her lab assistants before heading towards her office. Jane waits by the elevator.

She steps into the elevator, dressed in her 'Maura and not medical examiner' attire; her goggles, her gloves, and her scrub suit lie neatly folded next to the John Doe, the little John Doe.

She holds onto the hand that reaches for hers – Jane's.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	3. Chapter 3

He starts his day, like all his days since – by donning on a coloured wig, a rubber nose, and an exaggeratedly drawn smile.

He settles into his role as his feet step into a pair of red oversized shoes; and he tries to not see how similar he looks to that character in 'It'.

He packs his tools, his unlikely weapons into his bag, and he puts on his tag. He was decorated once, but he had retired since.

The children will come, and work has begun, it's time; and his used-to-be fiancée will be meeting him this afternoon on the scene.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	4. Chapter 4

"I know that it's only been a week, this, dating thing…but," she guides Maura through the crowd, with her hand behind Maura's back, "I wanted to take you somewhere special for lunch today," she smiles as she waits by the door, for Maura's approval.

"Only if we get back in time," Maura smiles, "And please, no alcohol. It's only mid-day Jane."

"What if Susie comes right now, and tells us that it's hair?" She laughs as they step through the door.

"I'm not having you drink anymore after –" Maura reaches for her phone, as she does for her own.

"Detective Rizzoli," she answers. "Doctor Isles," Maura answers.

"Lunch will have to wait?" Maura turns to her.

"I'm driving," she begrudgingly gestures to the car.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	5. Chapter 5

"Thank you," she says to the officers as she steps under the police tape and Jane, the detective, steps under it after her.

"There's a body for us at least," Jane comments; she turns around to look at Jane.

"What's the problem Jane?" Cautiously she asks; she had picked up some tension on the drive over here, and Jane's comment seemed, too edgy and unsettling.

Jane sighs before answering, "He works here Maura."

"He?"

"You know…him…?"

"Casey?"

"Yes Maura! Casey!"

"If there's any animosity left between you and him Jane, you should work to resolve it with him. It does neither party good, after a break-up, to have the situation neither resolved nor talked about. If you still feel guilty or a sense of guilt as to what had transpired…"

"I don't feel guilty Maura," Jane rests her hand on her shoulder, "It's just…"

"Awkward?" She fills in the blank.

"Yes, awkward. I don't want to actually see him again, after saying no to his proposal…"

She licks at her lips. Casey had proposed to Jane, and Jane had said no to him. Jane had come running to her house, in the dead of night, explaining how she didn't feel capable of being his, of being with him, and herself when she was with him, and how things just didn't feel right with him. She had told Jane to take a short trip to think about things. Jane had gone and came back, broken up with Casey, and waited a week before asking her out on a date. She licks at her lips, and Jane's hand on her shoulder feels heavy.

"It's you I wouldn't leave," Jane assures her with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder, "It's you Maura," Jane smiles at her.

She returns a smile without daring to meet Jane's eyes.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	6. Chapter 6

He sees them. He hears them. The sirens, the police tape, and her. He knows that he looks as if he's already smiling, but he smiles anyway - he sees her.

He hands a little girl a flower. He hands a little boy a sword. He hands a little girl a hat. He hands a little boy a gun. He hands out balloons to children; he hasn't mastered juggling yet.

He gives his nose a gentle honk, and he waves goodbye to the diminishing queue - happy, satisfied children with balloons; his therapist said that it'll help, that it'll outweigh all the pain and anguish he had since witnessed in the war.

He feels a tug to his pinstriped pants.

He turns around to see, a little boy with an angelic smile. In the sweetest voice, the little boy asks, "May I have a balloon please?"

He smiles, and his smile, along with his made up smile, widens and stretches across his face. "Follow me?" He offers his hand.

The little boy takes his hand, and he leads the little boy a little away. Away from the excited yells, away from the bustling crowds and carnival pals, and simply away from all the seeing eyes.

He can retire, he can change his environment to avoid the pain and anguish; but they are here, and it's time to give her a reason to meet him again.

The little boy manages a muted yell, before he collapses onto the ground - with a balloon animal in his hand, and his own blood pooling on the ground.

He leaves the bloody knife - among the dozen knives - resting on the table of the knife throwing master's; there's a show five minutes later.

"How glaring," he says to himself as he smirks; as he waits for them, as he waits for her, to see, to see him again.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~  
If you're here, hope the story's alright so far.


	7. Chapter 7

She walks ahead, a little ahead, and maybe a little fast ahead - to get away from Jane's explanation. To take her mind off the heaviness of Jane's hand. She walks ahead, a little ahead, and she stops in her quest.

There, a little ahead, in the middle of a pool of reddish brown stain lies, a Jane Doe, a little Jane Doe.

She tries not to conjure up the memory of who is currently lying beside her googles, gloves, and scrub suit. She tries not to picture how beneath the cloth she had pulled over her autopsy table, lay a John Doe, a little John Doe, with a Y-incision across his chest. She tries not to recall the thirty little Jane Does and little John Does that had since lain on her autopsy table.

She tries to block out the process of having to inspect each and every inch of the unmoving body of children; at how, they should be boisterous and moving, like T.J. - she tries to not connect the images. She tries to not let their deaths get to her; she tries to remain objective and to simply be as her peers had dubbed her - the Queen of the Dead.

Mostly, she tries not to think of how, she'll have to do it all again to the Jane Doe, the little Jane Doe, lying a little ahead of her.

She registers Jane's hand, and it still feels heavy on her shoulder; and she knows that transference has occurred, and guilt too has settled.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	8. Chapter 8

"I came here today Maura, because I was called in," she had started to explain as Maura began walking ahead. "I was called in, and I missed your coffee, and," she internalized a sigh - Maura didn't meet her eyes, "I found out that Casey worked here, only because I saw his name in the register. I saw his name in the book of employees Maura. I wasn't even looking for…" Her words had fallen away as she saw the body lying a little ahead.

Maura had seemed to falter, and she had reached out to hold onto her.

She knew how partial Maura can get to children. She had seen the way Maura looked at T.J. and how she showered him with gifts and presents. Books would build his perspective of the world, the stories would help him reach his stages of development, and toys would aid his motor skills, and so on and so forth. Maura was always justifying her pampering of T.J. with research and studies, when all she really wanted to do was hold him - she had caught Maura singing to T.J. when she had thought no one was looking.

She had noticed how Maura seemed to have made it a point to never spend more time than necessary with the children cadavers. She had watched as Maura conducted the autopsies, and proceeded to spend the week hiding out in her office. She knew that Maura prided herself on speaking for the dead, but she knows that Maura hates it most when it's the children who are dead. They played truth or dare one drunken night, and Maura had tried to, but Maura couldn't lie.

She had given a gentle squeeze to Maura's shoulder, and had considered pulling Maura in for a hug. She had simply considered the notion, because an ear-piercing scream had carried towards them right at that moment.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	9. Chapter 9

He hears the scream, and he knows that it's been discovered - the body of the little boy; his prize, his token, his moment of meeting her.

He hears the scream, but he continues the sculpting of rubber creations.

"Here's one for your wrist," he says as he places a flower bracelet pass a little girl's hand, "And here's another for you to sniff," he jokingly says with a gentle honk to his nose.

The little girl laughs, and he does feel warm inside; but he is still grinning over the happening of the scream.

"May I have a knife too? For my little brother? He always pretends to like the animals and never asks for the knives," the little girl asks and explains, with a gentle sway of her pink-stemmed, yellow-petal flower balloon.

He simply nods and gets to sculpting. He tries not to converse with the children; he cannot determine or predict their reactions. He simply nods and gets to sculpting. Their smiles, and thanks, should be enough - but they aren't her.

"Be careful, these things can hurt," he says as he does a silly dance in his red oversized shoes and sends a wave.

He has one more balloon to give, and right on time - for he sees her dash right past him, towards the delightful origin of the scream.

The way the curls of her hair bounces as she bounds, has him smiling even wider than the scream possibly can.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	10. Chapter 10

She had reached for her gun, at the same time Maura had reached for her hand.

A gentle squeeze, Maura had sent, and they both had understood that that meant: I understand, but don't do anything rash Jane Rizzoli.

She had unholstered her gun and Maura had done as she had once made her promised: Stay low, stay out of trouble, and don't follow me. Stay safe, and stay behind, if you must follow me.

She knows that Maura has already dialed for Korsak and Frost, as she had headed off in a sprint towards the origin of the scream.

We're at the carnival, she had thought to herself as she had run. People scream, she had reasoned as she had neared the scene. But not like that, and they do, for things like this. She had concluded as she had come to a stop behind a frantic woman behind a counter covered in knives.

They glint, the knives, all shiny and clean, except for one - and there it had lay, amongst the dozen knives, the only one covered in blood.

There it had rested, there it had been left - a glaring object coated in blood - that seemed to match the still flowing pool from a little boy, with a balloon animal in his hand.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	11. Chapter 11

"Doctor Isles," he calls out her best friend's name, her best friend the medical examiner.

He prepares his best clownish smile and he has his gift in his hand - ready, present, and everything planned.

The only variable he had allowed was his own curiousity as to if she can recognize him, and regardless, the plan is the very gift.

The medical examiner turns around.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~


	12. Chapter 12

She turns at the sound of someone calling out her name.

Jane had left not just mere seconds ago, and apart from it being not her voice, it was simply highly unlikely that it was Jane calling her anyway. Jane had made her promise to call for back-up, and not try to be the back-up. She knows that the Hoyt incident still frightened Jane - she just never could get Jane to talk about it, because Jane had evaded the topic still.

There were officers all over the place, and although a couple of them had run behind Jane, the detective, there were officers all over the place. She turned at the sound of someone calling out her name, or at least, her professional name.

She sees a clown, grinning at her with a balloon sculpture in his hand, standing before her. The glint in the clown's eyes seemed familiar but, she was greatly distracted by what was held up and offered to her - a balloon sculpture that seemed to spell or resemble the word - 'Jane'.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~  
Note: Remember my note in chapter one? Well, I'm really not sure if balloons can be sculpted to form words but, I think it's possible...?


	13. Chapter 13

"Take it," he says. You've taken so much more already. He thinks.

He holds up the balloon sculpture of her name, and offers it to the medical examiner.

He had spent days, and hours of each day, practicing this. Working the balloons just right, to spell her name; designing it had been tricky. Getting the air pressure and rubber stretched, precisely enough, for the sculpture to form her name. He had spent days, and hours of each day, practicing for this. Practicing and perfecting this moment.

"Take it," he says, with a gentle toot of his horn. "It's yours," he says, with a gentle honk of his nose, and he widens his already made up smile as the medical examiner reaches for the balloon.

It is then, and it has to be done just right then, that he reaches for the item in the pocket of his pants.

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**A/N**: Hi there, thank you, for the time~  
If you're here, hope all's alright, and apologies, for it's late where I am so, it has to pause here for now - the story. Truly and sincerely, thank you for reading, if you are, and even if you aren't, it's okay too. Thank you, for the time=)


	14. Chapter 14

She reaches out for the balloon but holds onto the clown's hand. She recognizes the glint in the clown's eyes now. She knows who he is. She knows, who he is.

Despite the bright red wig he wore over his hair, despite the powdered face to conceal his natural colouring, and despite the big red nose and the oversized shoes, she remembers the glint of his eyes.

She had stared at them every chance she had gotten, just to determine if he looked at her best friend, as she deserved to be looked at. She had studied his expressions as he interacted with her best friend, just to ascertain that he's an honest man. She had watched and had observed all that she could have about this man, about her best friend's man, just to assuage herself that he loves her as much as she loves him; and that she herself would never stand a chance with her best friend, with Jane.

She knows who he is, and the heaviness grows in her chest.

"I'm not taking it," she lets go of his hand, and steps a little away back, "It's not mine." She declines again the offer he presents – a balloon sculpture, a balloon sculptured Jane – Jane.

"I know who you are," she states with an even voice as she tries not to feel the growing guilt.

She knows who he is, and she had stolen her away from him.

"Casey," she says his name, and is afraid to meet his eyes; but she forces herself to look up, and she tries to apologize.

She had stolen Jane away from him, but no apology manages to materialize – there is only guilt and shame in her left.

"That makes one of us Doctor Isles," Casey smiles, and she notices that his smile is wide but his eyes fall inside, "And she's not mine either," Casey adds.

She had stolen her away from him. She had stolen Jane Rizzoli away from Casey Jones.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~  
Hmm. I'll love to say trust me, but, no one should ever trust me. Hahaha. All I want to try with this story is, the idea that: there are two sides to every coin, to every story, to every being (at the very least).


	15. Chapter 15

His hand leaves his pocket, empty.

The plan was for the medical examiner to accept the balloon sculpture, before he could present the medical examiner with what needed presenting. The plan was for her best friend, the medical examiner, to accept the balloon sculpture, before he could present her best friend, the medical examiner, with what needed returning. The plan was for her, to be accepted and looked after.

His hand leaves his pocket, empty; and the medical examiner's hand, her best friend's hand, was on his.

The medical examiner's hand, her best friend's hand, was on his, before the medical examiner, her best friend, had stepped back away from him. The medical examiner, her best friend, had stepped back and the medical examiner, her best friend, had refused; her best friend, the medical examiner, had declined the offer of the balloon sculpture, of her.

The medical examiner, her best friend, had recognized him, had known who he is, and had used his name.

His tag remains now, invalid - neither the clown tag nor his dog tags, could be an identity - he was not 'Jasey' the joker happy clown or 'Lieutenant Colonel Jones' the decorated soldier; he's just Casey, the man her best friend, the medical examiner, recognizes and yet, never her.

The medical examiner, her best friend, knew who he is, and called him by name; when he himself knew only enough to reply with, "That makes one of us Doctor Isles," he had said as he tried a smile; and he wishes not to, but he had spoken the truth, "And she's not mine either," he had added, as the words had cut into him.

His hand had left his pocket, empty; but it is determined to do different - he has a plan, a mission, and she is important.

With both his hands he gestures it again towards her best friend, the medical examiner, Maura Isles. "Please, take it," he offers again with a smile, as he removes his big red nose, "Jane is yours. It's you she ran to, you she stayed for, and you whom she chose Maura."

"Take it, the balloon sculpture. Take it, because it can burst so easily with me," he gently waves the balloon sculpture, "Balloons burst, and Jane is like a soft shell crab, like a balloon. Tough, but also vulnerable," he sighs, "She would have burst if she stayed with me. You were her support even when a building had collapsed around her, and I needed her but I only left her." He admits with a heavy sigh.

"Take it," he says as he reaches into his pocket, "Take the balloon sculpture, take Jane, and this too," he steps towards Maura with the item once in his pocket, now in his hand, "Jane dropped it in her hurry to walk away from me and, she refused to see me ever since," he hands Maura the balloon sculpture and the item, "In her hurry to leave as she said no to me," he removes his wig, his hands now free, "We had a fight, and she must have had it in her hands when we argued, to keep her calm possibly," he watches as Maura looks at the item, at how Maura's eyes started to water, "Jane sleeps with it when I'm around. I thought at first, that it was because that was how we had come to meet again," he looks at the item, "She holds it in her hand, the one she keeps under her pillow, when she sleeps, right next to me," he looks back to Maura, "Jane is yours Maura," he pats Maura gently on the shoulder, and he says with a smile, because his mission is complete, "Jane is yours Maura. You're her best friend and more. Jane was always yours."

He turns and walks away - there is one more confession that he must make.

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**A/N: **Hi there, thank you, for the time~  
That, I hope, would have done Casey some justice - because, well, it's not all his fault (if anyone was to blame)...as I'll try to hopefully portray in chapters to come. Hmm. Were you right to trust me, if you did? Hope that this chapter wasn't an utter disappointment or a shot out of nowhere and, hope it was alright.  
Things even out, will work out, in the end. Also, since I've Tumblr-spoiled the episode, all I can say is: I don't know the exact plot of the crime (because no one really talked about it) and, as for all the emotional pain Maura felt in it...everyone's going to hurt in this story of mine; though the reasons differ and from all I had gathered, this fanfic is different from the episode anyway. So, that's pretty cool.  
Furthermore, the emotional fanfic writer (me) is hurting too; so...this is also my way and chance to say, I might be taking another break - because, I'm about to snap and kill off characters and, I really do not want another 'No Instant' story to happen - that hurts, still. Nor would anyone like story after story of pain, of characters dying, would they? Hahaha. Thank you for the time spent with this story, and the interest in it; and don't worry, all stories will be completed, one day. It's just a short break I'm taking, to clear my head. Apologies.


	16. Chapter 16

Maura holds onto the balloon, hardly believing what she had received.

Jane steps then up to Maura - she had witness the whole scene.

Casey does a double back and he does the one thing he had actually been meaning (or tasked) to do - he takes a needle and bursts the balloon.

On Maura's hand a piece of paper remains - Happy April Fools!

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**A/N:** I had to. Happy April Fools from HaveringFool!=)  
Do disregard this chapter in terms of the story progression.


End file.
